Recalling how close Yor and Yuri had gotten during the day, Twilight Dad looked a little forlorn.
He figured he must have been tired and unwittingly muttered to himself, "I should get to bed early! The mission continues tomorrow."
Twilight stood up and switched off the light, looking slightly weary.
Downstairs, the street lay in darkness, its dim streetlights barely illuminating the ground.
Crickets and katydids chirped rhythmically, their solitary music lending beauty to the quiet night.
Two punks wandered aimlessly down the street, hands in their pockets and defiance written all over them. One had a scar on his face.
As they reached a corner, a low voice called out behind them, "Excuse me!"
They turned and saw a boy with blood all over his face. He still looked young, but his clothes were decidedly grown-up.
He held a black-gloved hand in the air, regarding the two of them sternly.
The boy swayed on his feet, panting for breath. He was clearly drunk.
With blood streaming endlessly down his face, he looked like a demon that had crawled out of the depths of the night:
"Could you tell me how to get to the station?"
The two men stared in shock for three seconds, then shouted in unison, "Go to the hospital first-!"
Once that little episode was over, Yuri's nosebleed traced a graceful arc through the night air.
Early the next morning, sunlight streamed into the house, making the room feel peaceful.
"Mornin'!" Dressed in blue pajamas, Anya braced one hand against the wall and rubbed her eyes with the other.
Anya hadn't slept well the night before and was still groggy after getting up.
"Father, why are you so green today?" Anya murmured to the potted plant in the corner as she rubbed her eyes.
Beside Anya,